Come as you are
by Seriouslyme
Summary: It is on a very early morning at the hospital that Sakura meets a knife-wielding stranger.


**Summary: It is on an early morning at the hospital that Sakura meets a knife-wielding stranger.**

**Rating: T**

**Prompt: Blabbermouth.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jo, and Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. I have no intention of earning any income from this(even if I **_**did**_**, it would be a looooong shot).**

* * *

**_Come as you are_  
**

* * *

_Come, as you are,  
_

_As you were,  
_

_As I want you to be_

~Nirvana**_  
_**

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke was many things. He was smart, attractive, and driven. He was strong-willed and determined. He was cruel, and was someone who, at some point of his life, had given up all morals he had in order to achieve his goal. He believed in vengeance rather than forgiveness, and death and destruction was the revenge he believed would avenge the family who had been taken from him.

Tonight, the one thing Uchiha Sasuke most definitely was not was sober.

It was two past midnight when he stumbled into Konoha University Hospital, his usual grace forgotten as he half-staggered, waving a knife- a small switchblade made of silver and set with blood-red stones- rather clumsily in his right hand.

"I am going to kill you all," he declared triumphantly, looking around the hospital lobby. The people- few sitting on the couches, and one or two hospital staff who happened to frequent the area at the time- stared at him.

Then, one of the people, a girl -with pale _pink hair? How was that possible?_

He squinted at her, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes to see if he was hallucinating- no, he wasn't. She really _did_ have the most unnatural hair. Who did she think she was? Fucking _Barbie_? He snorted.

"Are you really?" Spoke the girl with pink hair-_pink! Ha!_-_,_ eying his knife. She had come closer now and her hand was slowly reaching for his prized dagger. He stepped backward and tightened his grip on the knife. A sharp pain shot through his hand as he did so, and though the thick, wet sweat between his hands and the handle- which felt surprisingly sharp- made his hold slippery, he swung the knife at her.

The girl stepped back hastily and held up her hands in an act of defeat.

"Look, you're hurt, okay? Your knife is hurting you," she spoke slowly, her eyes on his face. "You're bleeding. I'm going to help you." She stepped forward, her hand reaching out as if to grab his weapon.

He snorted. Did Barbie really think he was going to fall for that? She was just scared he was going to kill her. Which, he suddenly remembered, was the reason he was here. To kill everyone in this hospital.

He glared at Barbie. "You really thought I'd fall for that? I'm here to kill you."

Then he lunged at her.

* * *

In her two years at Konoha hospital, she had seen her fair share of late-night drunks. There were angry drunks, happy drunks giddy with glee, very unhappy ones and the violent ones. The thing all drunks possessed in common, she had found out, was that temporary bravado and loose-tongue that came only with alcohol.

she would put the person who had just sauntered into the lobby between unhappy and angry. Sure, he was swinging around a knife and threatening murder, but he had yet to take down anyone. Guns were always bad. But knives, as long as she could reason with the person until security came, were much better. And this time, Sakura was faced only with a small switchblade- which the user was holding wrong, she suddenly noticed.

His hands were closed around the blade part of the knife, with the handle jutting outwards. She could see beads of blood gathering around his curled fingers where the knife dug into his skin.

Sakura almost laughed.

He was threatening them with a knife handle and didn't even realize it.

"Look, you're hurt, okay?" She spoke slowly, making sure to maintain eye contact. "You're bleeding. I'm going to help you."

She took a tentative step forward, and reached towards his bleeding hand.

He snorted and took a step back. "You really thought I'd fall for that?" he said, glaring daggers at her. "I'm here to kill you."

Then, silver handle pointed threateningly at her, he lunged.

She jumped back in reflex, her outstretched hand closing around his wrist to hold it away from her.

She quickly closed her other hand around his uninjured one incase he got any ideas of switching the hold of the knife. Sakura might not look it, but she had a strong grip.

Turned out he had a strong_er_ grip. He wrenched both his hands from hers and smirked at her, though his eyes still held an angry, hostile look.

"Thought you could overpower me, _Bar_-_bie_?"

Oh, no. He didn't.

He did _not_ just call her Barbie.

Sakura's eyes narrowed at him and she opened her mouth, angry retort already on her tongue. _He's drunk Sakura_, her inner voice reasoned, _let it go_.

_Bar-bie._

His smirking face seemed to taunt her.

But in the end, ever the voice of reason, she forced herself to hold it back. This man was drunk, armed-so to say-, and strong. She couldn't rise to his insults. No, she had to be the bigger, better person here.

So she looked into his eyes, took a calming breath, and spoke.

"Your hand is bleeding. Look," out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a security man standing by the side, ready to intercept should the drunk decide to make another move. "You're holding the knife wrong, and it has cut through your skin," she continued, eyes still holding his. "It needs to be cleaned and dressed before you bleed too much. Can I do that?" She looked pointedly at his bleeding hand.

He raised his eyebrow and smirked again, but followed her eyes and looked down at his hand and the blood dripping from it to the ground, where a small puddle of blood had formed. His eyes moved back to his knife, and he sighed and shook his head as if he couldn't believe himself.

"Fine."

Sakura let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and straightened up. She dug into the pocket of her scrubs and drew out a wad of tissue paper which she held out to him.

"Here, put the knife away," she said. She had decided that it would be unwise for her to try to take it, and the best way to get the damned thing put away before it hurt another person was to make _him_ put it away instead of trying to wrestle it from him.

He narrowed his eyes at her words, as if scrutinizing her for an ulterior motive. However, when she made no move to swipe at his prized possession, he took the tissue from her and carefully wiped the blade with it. However, the more he tried to wipe it, the more the paper stained from his still bleeding cut.

Sakura sighed and handed him another wad of tissue. "Here, press it to the wound." He slid the knife, now wrapped in blood-stained tissue paper, into his jacket pocket and took her offered wad of tissue.

"C'mon," said Sakura, motioning with her head. She placed a hand on his upper arm and guided him away from the lobby and down the hallway into a small room just off the ER which was used for small things like suturing and dressing wounds. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a nurse and the guard following them.

When they reached the room, she gestured toward the bed and said, "Sit down."

The man looked around the room in distaste, surveying the white bed, the counter holding several covered trays and various medical instruments. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Quaint room."

Sakura gritted her teeth. "This is not a four-star hotel," she said. "Now sit down."

"You need help, Haruno-sensei?" the nurse asked, lingering in the doorway.

She shook her head. "No, I'm good."

The nurse nodded at her and left. As easy as it would be to ask her to stay, the nursing department was short-staffed at the moment, and if she could handle it on her own, Sakura did not want to ask for assistance.

"Hold out your hand," she said, turning back to her patient.

The man obeyed without much further ado. Clearly, he had realized that it was more important to stop his injured hand from bleeding than to go about waving a knife or insulting the hospital.

Sakura pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and dabbed at the bloody mess with some gauze until most of the blood were cleared up. All the while, she could feel the man's eyes on her.

"What?" she asked, sparing an annoyed glance at him as she reached for an antibiotic solution to clean the cut.

"Your hair is _pink!_" The last word was said with much contempt, as though he found her choice of hair dye extremely offending.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"And your hair is black."

She didn't see his look of mild amusement at her statement because she had just realized that no, she could not simply get away with an antibiotic ointment and bandages, because the opening across his right palm was deep enough to warrant atleast five sutures.

Sakura sighed and looked up at the man.

"I'm going to need to give you some stitches."

* * *

Barbie was quite pretty, he observed, except for her pink hair. Who in their right mind would choose to have pink as a hair colour out of the vast number of different colours in the spectrum?

And light, petal-pink at that.

She might as well as have been a pixie who walked into the human world by accident. He pondered whether to ask her this, but quickly decided against it; he was content with watching her work on his hand, face pulled into a look of intense concentration, hands nimbly pulling needle and thread across his skin.

It suddenly occurred to him that it had been a very long time since he had spared any time for the opposite sex.

"There. All done!" Sasuke was brought out of his reverie by the cheerful voice of the young woman who was treating him. "Now you can go home," she said, getting up from her chair beside his bed and discarding her gloves. Then she paused, and another thought seemed to occur her. "Wait," she walked towards the bed. "I need your name."

"Sasuke." He smirked. The chic obviously found him attractive. "and you are?"

"Right, Sasuke," she finished washing her hands and came to a stop a few feet from where he sat. "I'm Dr. Haruno. Do you have any insurance?"

_Insurance? _Here he was, a dashing young man with a tragic past- a total badass who had just attempted to murder her- _didn't pretty girls dig that?_- and she was asking if he had any insurance?

"No," he said, all but glaring at her.

"Okay, then. You are going to have to pay in cash. Is there anyone who can come get you? Friends, family?"

He snorted. "I don't have any friends, and my family is dead. My brother killed them when I was eight."

"Oh," she blinked, staring at him with an odd look on her face. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he shook his head. And it _was_ okay. Tonight had been his lucky night, and a true burst of good fortune, he had come across both the Sword of Gryffindor and the resurrection stone earlier tonight. He was finally going to be reunited with his parents. "They are coming back," he added, "I'm bringing them back from the dead." Which was why he had been trying to kill the people at the hospital; he needed a human sacrifice for each life he brought back (He distinctly remembered reading something of the sort once in a book), but that didn't matter at the moment. He could always find people to kill after this session with the pink-haired .

Barbie opened her mouth and closed it, reminding him of a fish he had once kept as a pet.

"I found the resurrection stone," he confessed.

The doctor bit her lip and finally seemed to gather herself. "Right," she said, looking at him curiously, a very befuddled expression on her face.

"And I have the sword of Gryffindor to ward off any enemies who decide to take it from me."

"Wh-what?" she sputtered.

* * *

Sakura didn't know whether to laugh or feel horrified. In a span of a minute, the man- Sasuke- had confessed to witnessing the murder of his family by his own brother, being in possession of two fictional items Sakura was very, very sure that neither the resurrection stone nor the sword of Gryffindor existed outside of the Harry Potter books), and his plan to bring back said family back to life.

"Speaking of which," he continued, "my sword." And to Sakura's dismay, he reached inside his jacket and drew out the bloody knife he had been holding before. "Its been shrunk though," he added, "would be too conspicuous to carry a huge sword."

Sakura bit her lip hard. This was _not_ the time to laugh.

Sasuke regarded the knife critically, slipping it out of the soggy tissue paper and holding it up to the light. "This needs cleaning," he declared.

"O-kay," because honestly, what other witty comeback was she supposed to use against a man too wasted to realize that his knife was most definitely _not_ a shrunk sword.? "Let me clean that for you."

She reached out for the knife gingerly, but this time, he handed it to her without any fuss.

"You know, you should lie down, get some sleep," she said as she walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. The man had no one to help him- and even if he did, he was too confused to give her any contact details of a such person. It would be better if she let him sleep off the alcohol and deal with the paperwork when he woke up sober.

"S'pose I should," she heard him mutter. She looked over her shoulder and watched as Sasuke lowered himself onto the bed, one hand nestled under his head, and the other resting on his forehead.

"Haruno?" No prefix. No suffix.

"Yes?"

"If I weren't who I was, I'd probably ask you out."

His face was turned towards her, mouth quirked upwards in a smile of sorts, bangs falling over his eyes.

Sakura paused in surprise, and felt a faint blush creep onto her cheeks. Then she shook her head firmly. This man was drunk off his ass to the point of being delusional.

"Goodnight, Sasuke."

When she came back with the cleaned and dried knife, Sasuke was already asleep.

She put the knife away- she would let him have it in the morning-, and sank into the seat next to him, pulling out the rubber-band holding her hair and shaking it free.

Sasuke's skin was incredibly pal- pasty even, in the florescent light-, and contrasted greatly with the black hair arranged haphazardly around his pillow. Long, thick lashes- was a guy even supposed to have such lashes?- grazed the skin under his closed eyes. The creases on his forehead had relaxed, giving his face a much younger look.

He looked peaceful and untroubled in his sleep.

Sakura found herself recalling what he had said about his family. She knew that his story- the one about his brother killing his parents- was unlikely to be true, but it was likely that his family was gone all the same. People often glorified facts when they were drunk, but usually, there was some truth when they confessed to dreadful things.

And he had asked her out.

Almost, anyway.

She smiled and shook her head. It was silly of her to be happy about being complimented by an inebriated man. Maybe she should take a day off and let Ino take her clubbing.

She ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet of the room. The hospital was a busy place, especially for a surgeon like herself. Nights like these were extremely rare, where she had the liberty to coax drunken men into letting her treat minor wounds, and the time to sit by their bedside after they fell asleep (Of course, she would have paperwork to fill in for this man, but she would get to it in the morning).

As if on cue, her hospital-issued pager vibrated.

Looked like her free time was up. Sakura stood up.

It was time to get back to work.

* * *

Sasuke woke up to a blinding white light and a terrible headache. He vaguely remembered being exceptionally chatty with a young woman- a doctor?

A doctor.

"Shit!" he cursed, squeezing his eyes tightly as patches of conversation about swords, stones and dead families flashed through his mind. He vaguely recalled going to a dingy little bar and downing glass after glass of burning liquid after waking up in the afternoon and looking at the calendar.

The calendar...

He suddenly remembered the reason he had been drinking in the first place.

His brother, a murderer, but his brother nonetheless... and his parents, sprawled across the floor in a puddle of crimson.

Sasuke closed his eyes and swallowed thickly.

The anniversary of his family's murder and his brother's mutiny.

Just his luck that he ended up in a hospital because he was too intoxicated to realize that no, it wasn't safe for him to stroll into a public building, what with being on the list of Fire Country's most wanted criminals. Infact, it was a wonder that he hadn't been founded out yet.

Atleast he hadn't been stupid enough to give his last name.

He cursed again.

He had to get out of here fast, before someone came to check up on him and found themselves a fugitive. Sasuke brushed his bangs out of his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

It was only as he was parking his – hot-wired and borrowed, not stolen- car outside a rundown motel twenty-seven miles away that he realized that his dagger was missing.

"_Let me clean that for you."_

"Dammit!" he cursed, slamming his hands on the steering wheel in annoyance.

He had liked his knife. But there was no helping it now.

By now, they would have realized who he was, and the knife would most likely be with the police. Konoha University Hospital would be on alert for the notorious Uchiha Sasuke.

* * *

"Sasuke? _Uchiha_ Sasuke?" her colleague stared at her with wide eyes, the tray she had been assembling with gauze and disinfectant forgotten on the counter beside them.

"I don't know. He never told me his family name," Sakura shrugged, leaning back on her chair.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, intoxicatingly beautiful?"

Sakura raised an eyebrow at her friend's inquisitiveness. "I suppose."

Ino took in a sharp breath, "Sakura, did you inform the police?"

"No," Sakura frowned. "Why would I? He came with a knife, but he didn't hurt anyone except himself. I'll have to fill a –"

"Sakura, I think you might have left a murderer unattended. If it's Uchiha Sasuke-"

"What?"

"We need to inform the cops and make sure he doesn't escape."

Sakura could feel the blood drain out of her face.

_Murderer._

What if Ino was right? What if she had spent the better part of last night with a wanted fugitive, and a murderer at that?

She stood up, grabbing her pager as she did so.

"Requesting security to treatment room 12B. Urgent," she spoke into it, and then she was off, running out of the ER, past the lobby and down the corridor.

When she burst in through the door, it was empty.

Suddenly remembering it, she pulled the knife out of her pocket and studied it. There, engraved on the side of the handle were the Japanese characters:

_Uchiha._

* * *

_A/N : This was written as a one-shot for the prompt 'Blabbermouth' for Sasusakumonth.  
_


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